solitude; au
It may have been silly, but in all honesty, one of Hope's favorite things to do was watch Lightning sleep. Maybe because it was something that didn't happen often - for as long as they'd been together, she always woke up before he did, probably out of long-born instinct from when she'd had to take care of Serah. And their days were usually so busy that when they fell into bed, they'd fall asleep together instantly.
At times, though, Hope could get away with simply closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep. It never took long to hear that slight, almost unnoticeable change in breathing from the woman next to him, but when he did hear it, he knew that was his cue.
A smile would always form on his face of his own accord at the sight next to him. When she was asleep, Lightning always looked…innocent, somehow. Vulnerable. Even sweet, though of course hell would freeze over before Hope ever said that to her out loud.
He thought back to when they'd first started spending the night together, and his first time watching her sleep. Lightning had been relaxed, of course, but there'd been a strange tenseness to her expression that hadn't fully gone away until much later. He attributed it to the new situation between them, or maybe it was that instinct to listen for Serah.
But now, it was gone. Now, Hope was graced with her utterly serene expression, her breathing deep and even, even when she unconsciously scooted closer to him. The fact that she could relax completely with him - even if she didn't fully realize it - meant more to him than he could ever really say.
Hope let out a near silent sigh as he brushed aside some of the wayward strands of hair that had fallen into Lightning's eyes. She didn't move, which made him smile - usually Lightning was alert to any kind of motion. It was the way she was.
Perhaps in sleep, she'd fallen under the same spell he had now while awake. There was no need to fear, because at this moment in the night, they may as well have been the only two people in the world.